So: here! A timely moment for a timely poem - 'tis the season. Written this time of year in 2015, previously unpublished. Image above is a photo I took last weekend, run through a Prisma filter.
[Public as of: 10/30/17]
Everything is luminous under the dark:
dead things glowing in skeletal fingers,
wet stone sky, stacked against the cold
sharp teeth already sawing at your bones.
The wind carries a promise, a malediction:
your joys will tarnish, your comfort mildew
inside its stagnant kettle, even your sorrows
icing over, cracked, and yet, and yet
everything is luminous under the dark.